


Want and Need

by ab2fsycho



Series: If on a Winter's Night an AU [6]
Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Alpha Beta Omega Dynamics, Luke discovers a little something about himself, M/M, That's right, cuz i said so, flora is no help whatsoever, i said so, it's just straightup porn, jealous layton, much jealousy, okay forserious, pr0n, they will be pleased, this is exactly what my prompter needs, yes - Freeform, you hear that erin, you know why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 17:26:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2158998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ab2fsycho/pseuds/ab2fsycho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke had to have it explained to him what was happening, what sort of changes he was going through. Who better than the Alpha in the house to explain it to him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Want and Need

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> I started this months ago and it's finally done. Now I'm stuck in the realm of Alpha beta omega dynamics with a vengeance. Wow. Much improve.

Luke was sweating bullets. His leg was twitching more than normal, his thumbs twiddling so much that he was surprised the movement didn’t count as exercise, and his breathing more labored than was typical of him. At the breakfast table, he sat across from Flora while Layton read his morning paper and sipped his cup of tea in the living room. Luke averted his gaze, his eyes fixed on his lap. His body felt strange. He felt ill, but he also felt like he could run a marathon. He felt shaky, his guts twisting uncomfortably. The part of him that felt strangest, however . . . well, he was staring at it. He saw nothing out of the ordinary at the moment, but things certainly felt out of the ordinary. Something was stirring down there, and while he wanted to ignore it he was increasingly aware of what lay behind his zip.

Staring at his plate, he usually made an effort to at least pretend Flora’s cooking wasn’t terrifying. Right then, however, he felt like his stomach might turn. He’d been thirsty, though. In fact, he’d guzzled three glasses of water and a cup of steaming hot tea. The roof of his mouth was still rather burnt from the act. Anything other than liquids, though, and Luke wasn’t entirely sure he could keep it down. His chest hurt from how fast his heart was racing. Placing his head in his hands, he leaned his elbows on the table to keep from crumpling on the floor and curling up.

“Is everything alright, Luke?” Flora asked, poking at her disastrous attempt at making a meal.

Luke squirmed in his seat, keeping his eyes down even as Flora addressed him directly. “I don’t feel so well,” he mumbled. The discomfort he felt was steadily growing, and he wasn’t positive he would be able to conceal that discomfort. Someone in that room grunted and coughed, but he said nothing of it. He didn’t even think to identify the individual.

It crossed his mind to ask what exactly was happening to him. For some reason, that unnerved him. The nature of his condition made him reluctant to speak about it. This became especially true when he focused in on his lap again and realized . . . oh God, why was it doing that? There was no cause for it to do that. Make it stop, Luke thought.

Panic bloomed within him as he crossed his legs as discreetly as he could, a small whimper escaping his throat without his permission. To cover up the noise, he pretended to clear his throat and pulled at his collar. He was completely unprepared for this . . . whatever is was. What was it? He could always ask someone. His face reddened at the very thought of asking the professor what this might be. He didn’t know why. He had no problem asking Professor Layton about anything else. Why was this different? Well, for one, he had a massive crush on the man. It would be too awkward to discuss this sort of thing with him. He didn’t press further into his psyche, instead sitting up and wiping the sweat from his brow. Turning his attention to Flora, he elected to ask her. Grabbing a pen and napkin, he decided it best to write his questions rather than ask them aloud. With shaky hands, he wrote a brief description of what was happening to him and an inquiry of what might be wrong with him.

Upon passing the note to Flora, she seized the opportunity to put down her barely used eating utensils and latch onto the excuse not to poke at her food. She’d barely skimmed the note before dropping it, making an odd noise before exclaiming, “Luke!”

“Shh,” he hurried to silence her. His shushing her did not help.

“Too much information! Take those questions elsewhere!” Was it just Luke, or was she getting louder?

“Flora, please—.”

“What’s going on over there?” the professor asked, not looking up from his paper. His voice sounded odd, Luke noted. Then Luke looked at Flora, mentally pleading for her to shut up.

“Luke’s having a personal problem and I can’t deal with it,” she blurted out.

Luke was mortified. Frozen in place, he was more aware of his shaky limbs, racing heart, and now almost painful aches that stemmed from his lower half and spread upward infecting the rest of his being. “Luke?” the professor asked quietly, his tone a stark contrast to Flora’s. Luke couldn’t answer. He was more aware of the beads of sweat rolling down his face than he was of his abandoned ability of speech. He wasn’t completely aware that he was getting up and running towards his room until he felt the doorknob against his fingers and heard the slam ringing in his ears. The anxiety combined with his embarrassment and his growing aches, and soon Luke was crying. He didn’t even know what he was crying over, just that he was frustrated and humiliated. He glanced down at his trousers, which had a definite bulge in one spot. It wasn’t like he’d never had an erection before. He was a teenaged boy. He was nineteen. It was expected. He’d never had it hurt like this. He’d never experienced so many symptoms along with it. More importantly, it had never made itself so obvious without any damn reason at all. He was ready to scream by the time he heard a knock at his door. “Luke?” It was the professor. Luke felt sicker. “May I come in?”

Luke had half a mind to say no. He was strangely cautious of Layton’s potential involvement in Luke’s problem. However, he’d never found it easy to say no to his professor. In fact, it was often downright impossible. Moving to go sit on his bed, he spoke just loud enough for Professor Layton to hear, “Yeah.” The door opened as he pulled a pillow onto his lap to conceal his tented trousers. Keeping his eyes down, Luke couldn’t bring himself to look at the professor as he entered the room and took a seat in a chair across from him. While Layton stepped further into the room and took his place, Luke focused all his energy on appearing as normal as possible despite the pain he was in. Before the professor could say anything, Luke immediately gave the same excuse he’d given Flora, “I don’t feel well.”

“I can see that, my boy. I’m more concerned about what exactly is going on to make you conclude that,” the professor said. His voice still sounded off, but Luke didn’t know how. Something just seemed different. There was a lengthy pause between them before Professor Layton added, “I read your note. The one you passed to Flora,” he clarified.

Luke’s face heated again and he wanted to shout at Flora. Grinding his teeth, he felt tears welling up in his eyes as he let slip, “I don’t know what’s happening.”

He still couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with the professor, but he could hear the sympathy in his voice as he spoke. “This is perfectly normal, Luke. It’s nothing to be upset about.”

“What’s wrong with me?” Luke asked, finally looking at the professor. A wave of pain wracked him as he did so, and he was forced to squeeze his legs together even more to try to abate it.

He felt quite guilty. Professor Layton was awkward at providing comfort at best, but in this moment he was sitting so rigidly that Luke was afraid he might petrify. Any other time and Luke might have laughed, but he was too busy being both grateful and disturbed by the professor’s willingness to discuss this with. Well . . . disturbed wasn’t quite the right word. Definitely not the right word. He tried not to think about it too much. “You . . .,” the professor stopped as though searching for the correct terminology. “You’re sort of going through a second puberty.”

“How is that even possible?” Luke asked, confused. Wasn’t one puberty enough?

Professor Layton shifted his weight from one side to another, looking up at the ceiling. His face colored as he began with, “There's no subtle way I can ask this.” Then he asked, “You’ve learned the dynamics of Alphas, betas, and omegas, have you not?”

Luke stiffened. “Is that what this is?” Layton nodded. Luke’s frustration hit its peak as his condition and his limited knowledge in that area clicked. Clutching his pillow, he fell onto his side and curled up as he growled, “No,” for five additional seconds. “That means I’m—.”

“—an omega,” the professor finished for him. “You matured at about the right time, and for a first time going through heat this seems rather mild.”

“It gets worse?” Luke asked, eyes widening as the aches momentarily subsided.

“It does for some,” Professor Layton answered. Then he added, “I’m more surprised you didn’t mature into an Alpha like your father.”

Luke really didn’t want to imagine his father in that manner, but he had to admit it was quite obvious when he thought about it. A noise drew Luke away from his thoughts, a quiet rumbling which made him shiver and stiffen in his position. Glancing over at the professor, Luke had a thought that made him both unnerved by and drawn to the question, “Should I be afraid of Alphas?”

The rumbling stopped when Layton spoke, which confirmed Luke’s suspicion that the noise had derived from him. The idea of Layton growling . . . did something to Luke. The feeling in his trousers intensified, which shocked him back into a state of worry. “Afraid is not the word I would use. Wary? Yes. Cautious? Yes. Afraid? Not always. Certainly there are Alphas who abuse their status.”

“You’re not one of them, though,” Luke stated.

He didn’t think it possible, but Layton actually did grow even tenser. “Pardon?” the professor asked, as though he’d misheard Luke.

“You’re an Alpha, but you wouldn’t use that against me.” Luke saw how Layton wrung his hands and felt he’d identified him properly. The professor was an Alpha most assuredly, but he hid it so well Luke might not have guessed without first hearing Layton growl. The stiffness would be expected on a subject such as this, but Luke had only ever heard of Alphas growling. On that thought, the growling started again. This time the professor tried to conceal it with a cough, just as he’d done in the living room. Before he staved off the sound, however, Luke felt an interesting reaction within himself. “Professor?”

“Yes, Luke?” A wave of bashfulness came over Luke as he realized the nature of his response to Layton himself. He wasn’t sure he could act on it, if he should act on it. The aching seemed to worsen the more he hesitated, and he found himself cringing as he sat up. It was impossible for him to ignore the bulge in his trousers now because Jesus it was throbbing. The growling started again and his insides twisted in response. Consciously, Luke was still debating with himself. Subconsciously, he somehow knew where he was going to end up. It scared him, but it also . . . shit, his erection was now absolutely distracting. His body moved without permission, and he found himself standing up and moving towards the professor. As Luke neared, the professor gripped the arms of his chair. “Stop,” he commanded.

“Professor—?”

“I wouldn’t touch me if I were you.” It came across as a threat, but that did not deter Luke. If anything, it made him want to move closer. “Think about what you’re doing.”

“I am.” Sort of. It was entirely possible he wasn’t thinking with the right head. “And . . . I want this.” Some part of him wanted this. He was shaking all over from anxiety about approaching the professor, but a part of him wanted this.

Layton's grip on the chair didn't loosen. In fact, Luke had never seen anyone's knuckles turn quite so white. The professor interrupted his staring at his hands with, “Luke, I . . .,” his face turned red, his jaw setting as he struggled not to growl. There was a brief interlude in which Luke had a moment to fantasize over what it would be like if he put as much energy into pouncing as the professor was putting into holding himself back. That brought an embarrassing moan from Luke, and as he covered his mouth the professor quickly said, “I can think of several reasons why this is a bad idea, terrible even.”

“To be frank, Professor,” Luke said, placing a tentative hand on Layton's and bringing a hiss from the unmoving man, “I don't give a fuck.”

Something in Layton's gaze seemed to come unhinged as he snarled out (whether meaning to or not, Luke didn't know), “Watch your language.”

Before Luke knew what was happening the professor had lunged, strong arms wrapping around the young man's waist and lifting him off his feet as Layton stood. Luke's insides started burning as the professor carried him out of his room and into Layton's.

:)

Flora heard the door to Luke's room open and looked up in time to see the professor carrying her surrogate brother down the hall. Luke was partially over the man's shoulder, but he looked anything but distressed about the situation.

“Oh,” she murmured after the door to Layton's room slammed shut. “Okay.” She got up, throwing the uneaten meals in the garbage and dishes in the sink. Grabbing her purse from a chair at the table, she proceeded to leave for the duration of the day. Putting what she'd just witnessed out of her mind, she wondered to herself just what Paul's plans were in the meantime.

:)

What little sense Layton had had prior to the realization that his apprentice was going into heat and he was responding to it had disappeared as soon as they were safe within his quarters. He didn't stop moving until he was standing at the foot of his bed. Then he dropped the omega on the mattress and proceeded to cover Luke's body with his own. A growl erupted from his chest as he beheld the shocked yet enticed look on Luke's face before grabbing the boy's hips and grinding into them. Luke cried out, the sound almost one of relief. With his mouth open like that, however, it registered more as an invitation with Layton. Seizing the opportunity Luke's outburst had presented, Layton kissed Luke forcefully and allowed his tongue to invade the mouth of the young man. Luke groaned, balling his fists in Layton's jacket and bringing him closer.

Reaching for Luke's trousers, he immediately began tugging at them and trying to remove them. In turn, Luke released the jacket enough to shove it off Layton's shoulders. Once he had the boy's zip undone, Layton almost tore his own clothing trying to get the jacket completely off. As Layton fought with his own clothes, Luke tossed his blue hat on the floor and began untucking his shirt. With his trousers undone and the collar of his shirt unbuttoned, Layton grabbed Luke's hands to stop them from moving. “Allow me,” he uttered, the words coming out sounding a lot deeper than he expected them to. He then proceeded to remove Luke's top, his fingers brushing the young man's sides ever so gently. Feeling Luke's soft skin as the boy trembled beneath him forced a possessive growl from Layton's throat. The boy's hips ground upward instinctively as he released a pained whimper.

Once Layton had tossed Luke's shirt on the floor with the hat, Luke said, “I'd take yours off, but I know what happens to people when they touch your hat.”

A laugh that sounded more like a purr fled Layton as he took off the tophat, his chuckle making Luke squirm under him. This time when Luke moved, he managed to bump into Layton's erection in a way that very well could have made the man see stars. At that point, the professor simply yanked Luke's trousers and pants down to his knees before freeing his own member from his pants. Luke stared at it for a moment, as if it had just occurred to him what was happening. His cheeks flushed as he looked back up at Layton, his expression changing as he started to shiver. “Are you alright?” Layton asked, choking down a snarl he was certain would only further unnerve the young man. Luke nodded hesitantly, squinting and squirming as another series of agonized gasps escaped him. “Are you sure?” Layton asked. He wanted to be sure. While it would be most disappointing and in some ways painful for both of them, he was absolutely willing to stop.

Finally Luke spoke, “I'm afraid.” Layton felt something within himself shrink at the thought of Luke being scared of him. Taking the boy's face in his hands, Luke closed his eyes and seemed to relax a little at the feeling. With a whimper, he asked, “Will it hurt?”

“It doesn't have to,” he offered, flattening the stray strands of Luke's hair. Before he started growling again, he stilled completely and asked, “Do you want to stop?”

Luke's answer was as immediate as his cry of pain. “Please don't.” A tear escaped Luke's eyelids as he tugged at Layton's shirt. Once it was off, Layton kissed him, his lips gentler and not as forceful as before. Thrusting their hips together and aligning their erections, Layton wrung a series of moans from Luke that made him snarl in the young man's ear. Once he found a rhythm, he increased his speed and soon Luke was panting between screams. Luke came first, his fingers digging into Layton's back as his own orgasm followed. He sighed at the release, gathering Luke in his arms and kissing his forehead before the logic that had fled him earlier returned.

He'd just effectively had sex with his apprentice. He stiffened above Luke. “Oh God, what have I done?”

:)

Luke froze at the question that slipped part the professor’s lips, his relief from the pain momentarily shattered. He honestly thought he might start crying again, which would only make this more awkward. “Please don't feel guilty. Professor, it's my—.”

Before he could finish his sentence, Layton clapped a hand over his mouth. For a moment, every inch of him felt hot with anger at being shut up. However, there was a part of him that was . . . fucking turned out by being rendered helpless. Then Layton interrupted his thoughts with the questions, “You don't regret it?” Luke looked at him questioningly. “If you don't regret it, I can live with myself.” Maybe. Layton didn't say it, but Luke heard the maybe in his voice anyway.

Without any hesitation, Luke mouthed against Layton's palm, “I don't regret it.” Layton removed his hand after, and Luke couldn't for the life of him figure out why Layton looked so surprised by his answer. He added, “I don't. I can't.” Before Layton could further question his answer, Luke kissed him about as innocently as he was capable of considering what they'd just done together. 

Layton didn't respond at first, but then he tightened his embrace and deepened the kiss. Luke's heart leapt at the intimacy, Layton's lips momentarily separating from Luke's to say, “I can more than live with that.”

Locked in the professor’s embrace, Luke couldn't think of a single reason to end this wonderful revelation. He had Layton. He could belong to Hershel Layton. That was the most beautiful thought he'd had all day.

And he was about to ruin it. “Professor?” he asked, pulling away.

“Yes, Luke?”

“Why am I hard again?”

Layton's response was not as awkward as he'd expected it to be. Instead of blushing, he was smiling and chuckling as he reached for some tissues in his bedside table drawer. Cleaning them up, he explained, “Your refractory period is much shorter because of your age. It's normal.”

“How long does a . . . heat last?”

“It varies. For most, it's maybe twelve to twenty-four hours.”

“What?!” Luke shouted. “Tw-twenty-four hours?!”

Layton reached back into the drawer, pulling something from it that Luke couldn't see. “Well, your body prepares itself for this sort of thing. It's not as bad as you might think.”

Glancing down at his erection, which was slowly growing painful again, Luke wasn't quite ready to believe Layton. Before he could ask anything else, Layton was kissing him and nothing else mattered. An electric pulse ran down the length of his spine, forcing his hips upward against Layton's. Layton growled and the uncapping of a bottle caught Luke's attention. Layton hesitated, locking eyes with Luke. Before the professor could say anything, however, Luke whispered against his lips, “Please?”

The professor gave him a wicked grin that made Luke shiver. Luke almost whimpered when Layton's lips left his, but the absence was overlooked as soon as Layton's teeth found the young man's neck. Luke gasped, feeling like he was hyperventilating from the excitement. The feeling came to a head when he felt slick fingers circling his entrance. Anticipation crawled up inside him, his breath coming out in huffs as he tried to relax his body. A strange scent suddenly caught his attention. He'd noticed it before, but until now it had not been overwhelmingly obvious. He thought . . . it was Layton marking him as his. Layton was his Alpha. Luke trembled, letting out a moan and a sigh as his body successfully relaxed. 

When the first finger slid inside, the sensation wasn't agonizing. It was invasive and strange, but it didn't hurt. When it started to move, though, Luke couldn't repress his moan. When a second finger was added, the stretch became more noticeable. Luke grew louder, Layton suddenly biting his neck and shoulder much harder than before. As the professor’s fingers worked to prepare Luke, the young man grabbed at Layton's free hand. Layton looked at him, surprised as Luke urged him to cover his mouth again. The professor hesitated for about a second before his palm and fingers tightened on Luke's jaw. Luke's heart skipped several beats and his member throbbed. He didn't stop moaning, and in fact got louder with the professor’s hand covering his mouth. A third finger inserted itself into him and he was screaming against Layton's palm. The professor left a trail of kisses along his shoulder before his tongue found its way to Luke's earlobe. Luke gasped against the hand, Layton's fingers stretching and probing and curling until they grazed his gland. Luke's eyes shot open and his back arched. He cried out, the cry muffled enough that he could hear Layton chuckling in his ear. Only the chuckle was so dark and unlike Layton and yet so appealing Luke felt like he was melting into the mattress.

The fingers left and their absence was painful. Luke whimpered as Layton whispered, “Still sure about this?” Luke nodded. Pulling his hand away to bring Luke closer, Layton prepared to enter the boy. Luke honestly didn't really know what to expect or just how to prepare himself. In fact, he could not have possibly prepared himself for the moment Layton slid into him. The pressure was so intense he almost reached up to cover his own mouth. The only thing stopping him was Layton pinning his wrists to the mattress, which not only took his attention off the pressure but made him buck and arch and encourage the professor to thrust. The professor did, his movements slow and torturous at first before gaining momentum. Luke's wrists became sore quickly from Layton holding them down, but he didn't want his hands to move. He wanted the professor to continue pinning him, thrusting into him, fucking him . . . .

“Oh God!” Luke screamed, his orgasm surprising him and spilling between himself and the professor.

Layton continued thrusting until he found his own release. When he came inside of Luke, the boy's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he went limp. Layton's hands slid down his arms and sides until the professor once again embraced him. This time, Layton rolled both of them over, placing Luke on top while remaining inside of him. Brushing the young man's hair out of one of his eyes, Layton's chest rumbled as he let himself purr and growl and coat Luke's skin with his scent. Luke inhaled deeply and rested his head on the professor’s chest, gathering his strength for the next several hours.

He couldn't think of a better person to spend them with.

:)

“Do I want to know why you're so determined to stay out of the house today?” Flora shook her head. The man most knew as Don Paolo shook his head at her. “Got something to do with the professor? You get in a fight with him?”

“No.” She didn't want to talk about it, but Paul was curious and wouldn't stop. He just wouldn't take no for an answer. She should have known.

“Fight with Luke, then?” He proceeded to mumble about how annoying the Triton brat was.

She went ahead a decided to mention it. As soon as he knew why she had left, he'd stop questioning her. “Luke . . . came of age.”

Paul raised an eyebrow. “Did he hit on you? Did he—?”

“Ew! No! He went into heat!” she declared, shocked that Paul would ask that. On some levels it was nice to know he was protective of her. On others, he just tended to take things too far.

His eyes widened. “Oh.” He thought about it for the moment. “The professor—.”

“Leave it there! I don't want to think about it!”

And for once, Paul was finally quiet. Well, until he interjected a few moments later, “Everyone should've seen that coming.”

Flora shook her head and facepalmed.

:)

Luke's first heat had only lasted twelve hours, much to his relief. He had never slept so well as he did when sleeping in the professor's arms. Save for Flora and Don Paolo, no one else knew about the professor's and his apprentice's new relationship. Luke was content to keep it that way. He knew what people would say about them, and neither he nor the professor needed it. Besides, nothing was official exactly. The proper bonding methods had not been applied, mostly because the professor wanted Luke to actually think before entering into that sort of commitment. “Bonds are not easily broken,” he'd explained. “In fact, they're quite permanent. Think about it before you settle for me.”

Luke, however, did not see himself as 'settling.' Not when it came to Professor Layton. He was content to leave the subject alone for now. For all he knew, the professor was right. He often was, after all. He hadn't come this far by being idiot. But Luke was no fool either. Though they weren't public about their courtship, he knew Layton's hesitation wasn't meant to offend Luke. He was just as possessive of Luke as he would be were they actually bonded.

He discovered this when Clive came to visit. The man was released for good behavior, but the law was still watching him carefully and making sure he continued seeking treatment even after being released. For the time being, he'd decided to stick with Don Paolo. For whatever reason, the two understood each other and were actually working together to better themselves. It was an odd friendship, but Flora seemed happy to be around them.

At one point, Don Paolo and the professor had left to discuss something in another room. Flora excused herself momentarily, and Clive and Luke were left alone. Luke twiddled his thumbs, not entirely sure what he would even say to Clive. Then he looked up and saw the man giving him a twisted smirk, eyebrow raised like he knew something Luke didn't. The look made him uncomfortable, but he didn't quite know why. Finally, he asked, “What is it?”

Clive's grin only turned more devilish. “You've matured.”

Luke's back stiffened. “I'm not sure what—.”

“You went into heat for the first time recently.” Clive inhaled, making a show of how he could sense it. Flashing his teeth, he uttered, “Doesn't seem like you have a mate.” Luke froze, afraid to move. Till now, he hadn't encountered another Alpha. Well, another Alpha that he knew was an Alpha that is, seeing as most Alphas and omegas had the decency to keep that sort of information to themselves. He felt a moment of panic as Clive leaned forward across the table, his look turning predatory. “And you are cute,” he murmured, a growl escaping from deep within his chest.

Luke didn't know he was whimpering until he heard another growl from behind him. Without warning Layton's hands slammed onto the table, his arms on either side of Luke encasing him in his warmth. Luke didn't look up at his Alpha, but he knew Layton's expression clearly indicated that Luke Triton was his territory and Clive Dove should respect that. Layton's snarl made Luke shiver, and the older man's chest was close enough to his head that he could feel the vibrations of his growls.

Clive leaned back, his smile going from mischievous to apologetic as he held up his hands in surrender. Don Paolo came to stand beside Luke and Layton. “Bad idea, young man,” he told Clive. “Very bad idea.”

Clive shrugged, then folded his arms. “What can I say? He's cute.” Layton's growl deepened. Clive looked up at the bristling professor. “Lucky kid, too.”

No, Luke didn't doubt the professor's attachment to him. Not in the slightest.


End file.
